


Discipline

by Mrs_Don_Draper



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Anal Sex, Discipline, Dubious Consent, Embarrassment, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sexual Harassment, Shame, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-11 02:36:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Don_Draper/pseuds/Mrs_Don_Draper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink Meme Prompt: Tony's being insubordinate both on field and in meetings. There's only one solution Nick Fury knows that'll work on him—taking him over his lap and spanking/paddling him good.</p><p> </p><p>  <b>*Updated from it's original posting on May 3, 2015*</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Discipline

Fury knows he shouldn't be surprised when Tony walks into the 2:00 meeting at 3:30 without a bit of remorse on his face. He shouldn't be surprised when Tony checks his watch every five minutes. And he really shouldn't be surprised when Tony makes a beeline for the door when they adjourn.

“Not you, Stark.”

Tony hits his fist on the door frame and frags his feet back to the table. All he wanted to so was go home and watch tonight's episode of Big Bang Theory, so that he and Bruce could critique it and write in about all of the inaccuracies they had found. But no. Now his night was ruined. At least Jarvis would record it for him, but it wouldn't be the same.

“Can we make this quick? I have plans.”

Fury crossed his arms. 

“You should have thought of that before you decided that your team and I weren't worth your time.”

Tony lets out a huff of annoyance.

“Look, I get it: don't be late and appreciate the team. Right. Sorry. It won't happen again,” he says, without much sincerity.

“Stark, do you know how many times I've heard you say those exact words in the past five months? How stupid do you honestly think I am?”

Tony puts on his biggest smile and crosses his own arms.

“You really want me to answer that?”

Fury doesn't respond; he's not here to play Stark's game. Tony manages to meet his stony gaze for a while—ever the defiant one—but eventually becomes distracted with other items (tech, mostly) in the room. As the silence stretches on, however, he starts feeling something akin to shame, which he supposes was the whole point.

“Look—,” Tony begins.

Fury pushed his chair back from the table a bit before saying, “Get over here, Stark.”

"Excuse me?"

He points to his side of the conference table.

Tony hesitates, unsure of what Fury is going to do, but curious and stubborn enough to want to find out. He trudges over to the other side of the table and leans against the table, waiting for him to make the next move.

“Take off your pants.”

Tony blinks. That was...remarkably unexpected.

“I'm sorry, what? It sounded like you said—.”

“I did. So do it.”

Tony laughs. "What are you going to do? Spank me?"

He pushes himself up from the table to walk away when Fury grabs his wrist, hard.

“You either do as you're told, or you find a new job.”

Tony pauses for a moment, considering the threat. This was all just some power play to try to scare him way from his pet project. Typical SHIELD and typical Fury. Yeah, well, he knew how to call a bluff when he saw one. He yanks his forearm from Fury's grasp and moves his hands to the button and zipper of his tight jeans. He toes off his sneakers and peals his pants off, leaving him standing in front of Fury in his grey boxer briefs and faded maroon tee shirt. He waits for Fury to back down, tell Tony not to be late again, and let him go as if this had never happened. He was sure Fury had lost his own game.

“Good, now get your ass over my knee.”

"I highly doubt that this is within protocol, though I will say that I'm flattered."

“Don't make me ask again."

Tony knows that he should have already been out the door at this point. He should have told Fury to go fuck himself. That he would be reporting him for sexual harassment. But then it hits him: who would actually believe him? Who would believe that their precious Director coerced Tony Stark—of all people—to have him strip down so he could presumably spank him?

Tony's shoulders droop in defeat. This wasn't fun or funny anymore, but he's made it this far, so there's no use in backing down now. He hunches himself over Fury's lap. The angles are pretty awkward. His hips rest against Fury's right thigh while his shoulders balanced gingerly on his left to protect the arc reactor, and his knees were slightly buckled to accommodate his and the chair's height. He struggles not to wriggle.

Fury reaches up his right hand to pull at the elastic waistband of Tony's boxers, pulling them down centimeters at a time, dragging out his torture. Fury caresses his bottom once it was fully exposed. Tony feels him grab a handful of skin, followed by a squeeze. The kneading gets more and more painfully with each grab. Then the pressure was gone...until Fury's hand came down with a thundering crack. Tony swallows down a yelp. This was wrong; so _wrong_. Fury's hands were fucking huge. The smacks continue until he could no longer hold back cries and tears. His skin stung and burned and still Fury brought down his mighty hand.

“Maybe this will teach you some respect, Stark. Is this what it's going to take? Treat you like a child until you can behave like an adult?”

Fury pauses to go back to kneading his tender flesh, spreading his cheeks and pressing down on the red skin. He was so sensitive that he almost wasn't surprised by the erection that was forming between his legs. Fury went back to trashing his ass, but his erection didn't flag. Each slap was torture yet pleasure-filled and soon Tony was crying out for completely different reasons.

“You like this, Stark? You like it when someone uses and abuses your ass?”

Tony can only whimper and hide his face in shame. He can't bring himself to look Fury in the eye. Why is this happening?

“Are you gonna come? Gonna get all nice and wet for me? Make a mess?”

Tony knows he's close. He can feel his balls drawing up in his sack, and his cock is twitching inside his dampened boxers. It's not much longer now. Not much longer until he is thoroughly humiliated.

Fury stops spanking him, and Tony groans. He hears Fury chuckle under his breath. The next thing he knows, Fury is spreading his cheeks again, trying to get a good look at his most private part. He hears Fury spit and feels something warm-wet slide down his crack to his hole. He can't help wriggling this time. Fury uses one hand to trace up and down his crack, and he's not quite sure whether it's from nerves or pleasure or both, but he's coming hard and moaning and thrusting against Fury's leg for even a small bit of friction. 

He blacks out for a bit and when he comes to, his top half is laying flat on the table, and Fury's standing behind him. He feels two fingers spreading open his hole, and he let's out a tiny mewl.

“It's alright. I'll make this good for the both of us.”

Fury's free hand is running softly up and down his back. It's more soothing than Tony would like to admit. He doesn't know where Fury got it, but he also feels the dribble of lube (maybe?) trickling down his ass, and that's way better than spit would have done. He feels Fury work it into his channel and whimpers when he slips in a third finger.

“You're fine, Stark. This is about trust. You've gotta trust me. You need to start listening to me, Stark.”

Tony wriggles his bottom when Fury grazes that sweet spot inside of him.

“Feels good, huh? You can have this. But you've gotta earn it. No one's just going to hand things to you anymore.”

Tony's out of it, but he manages to respond with words this time: “I will. I want to. Please...please just...”

“Alright, Tony, alright. Just making sure you're nice and ready. I'm going to fuck you now.”

Tony flinches when his fingers are removed and nods as he feels the tip of Fury's cock press against his entrance. He feels big. He tries his best not to fight it, but his ass burns from the spanking and his prep, so he's glad that Fury holds his hips tightly between his palms or else he's not sure he'd be able to do this. He presses all the way in in a few strong thrusts.

“Mmmmm, fuck Stark. You're tight. Anyone ever been here before?”

Tony only nods his head against the table but doesn't offer any other information. It feels good but weird and deep down he knows they shouldn't be doing this. He knows he should be more upset than he is, but he can't seem to find it in him to fight, though whether that is because of lust or fear, he's not quite sure.

“That's alright. You've got a nice ass. Tight and hot”—Tony squeezes his inner muscles half on purpose—"and so fucking good.”

It's kind of flattering—if unexpected—to hear Fury being so enthusiastic and complementary of him, even if it is his ass he's talking about. Fury begins fucking him harder then, speaking fewer sentences and more exclamations like “fuck” and “shit” or “damn,” depending on what tickled his fancy. Tony knows he won't come again any time soon, but there's something to be said for Fury's “punishment” turning into this, where Tony feels like he's finally got a foot in the door, a connection—no matter how twisted—to rely on. Fuck Fury and his little trust speech. Tears leak from behind his eyelids as the thought chokes him up. Maybe this was the only way Fury knew how to show he fucking cared, care and discipline all tangled up together.

Fury lets go with his left hand, and Tony feels his thumb wipe away the tears that had gotten free.

“You're doing real good, Tony. Real good.”

Tony clenches again, deliberate this time. He wishes Fury would hurry up.

“Mmm, it's a lucky man who gets to feel this around their dick.”

"If you're lucky, then what am?" Tony musters.

Fury response is to shove in even harder, and Tony's eyes fly open as he let's out a gasp. Over his shoulder he sees Fury panting hard as sweat beads on his forehead. He's focused, but he looks more relaxed and at ease than he's ever seen him. He's not looking at Tony with contempt or hatred, but with something close to fondness. Tony clenches his ass again.

“Gonna come deep in your ass. I know I'm— _unffff_ —big. You'll feel me for a while. But I'll be feelin' you for a while too. You're— _shit_ —so good, Tony. So good.”

Tony feels drunk on all this praise. Before today, he's never heard a good word come his way from the Director, and now? Now it was pouring from his mouth. He couldn't help but reach an arm down behind him to feel Fury move in and out of him, to feel his power. Fury tangles their fingers together over Tony's hip and seconds later, he feels Fury throb and come inside him with a long, low grunt. He felt each pulse smooth his channel and feels Fury soften inside his ass. Fury makes to step away, but Tony holds on tighter to his hand, not quite ready to give this up.

Soon, Fury was too soft to remain inside Tony. Tony whimpers when he slips out of his sore bottom. Fury hands Tony tissue for his eyes and nose; he figured it will just be easier to throw away his soiled boxers rather than explain to anyone what happened to them should anyone see that he had them with him. He still feels a bit shaky as he redresses himself, but he manages. It wouldn't be good to let Fury know that he felt like he was shaking. 

Fury also dresses in silence, which allows them a few moments to mull over what had just transpired between them.

"Will that be all?" Tony asks sarcastically.

Fury ignores the remark.

“You _are_ a good person, Stark. I know you can do better than you've been doing.” 

“Yes, Director."

Fury nods.

“Alright, Tony, you can go.”

Tony nods too and makes it to the door again before he stops himself.

“Thanks...I think?”

Fury nods again, and Tony exits the room.

When it closes shut, Fury sighed. He hoped the man would be alright.


End file.
